feeling a whole bag of emotions but excitement seems to be the biggest- yet most unfitting? I won’t dwell on it too long to worry, just enough to acknowledge it
we're not kids anymore.

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@kkswis
feeling a whole bag of emotions but excitement seems to be the biggest- yet most unfitting? I won’t dwell on it too long to worry, just enough to acknowledge it
David Wilson, New Fridge, 2023, Oil on linen
Danielle’s blog entry on deadjournal from 2002 while she was on ecstasy in 8th grade
— Traci Brimhall, Dear Eros
â™° â™°
@a-god-in-ruins-rises
it's just that when i love something, i love it loud and i love it long. i've never figured out the halfway of it - when i hold something, i let it scar me.
my heart is a beautiful place and anyone would be lucky to live there
not to be dramatic but! my bedroom windows!
october update
forgot about november but here's a december update
february update finally got string lights but not enough also this plant is slowly taking over my life
the cycle continues for me yet again… putting the work in and still finding other ways to ruin it all
i'm going to listen to the album of the artist you like even though he's not really my vibe. i'm going to read the book you suggested even though it's not a genre i usually enjoy. i'll watch the show. i will try the recipe. i will play the video game, or at least watch a deep-dive youtube explaining the really-long lore so i have some idea of what's happening. the movie you suggested is too scary for me, but - i mean, the wikipedia page is kind of interesting - look at the length of the section Controversy.
this is not a burden. i think maybe "burden" and "love" might be oppositional, the way sometimes "love" and "hate" are not opposites. a burden is a dragging. i love you because you brought me to the water, and it is the horizon of your heart. i love you because of your nervous pacing around the edges of the rabbit hole.
often you are right. some songs on that album remind me of the spark in your eyes. the book was really thought-provoking.
more i just want to understand enough that you can talk to me. that you can explain, in depth, why it matters that wheat has shallow roots. i love you, even platonically - your love of this thing leaks into me. i watch you, cautious and dancing, the shy desire for you to smear the colors of this thing into my life, too.
they are your colors, though. of course i want them here, in the marginalia of my life. you matter to me. i want them to crowd the little moments of my day. i want your fingerprints scattered throughout the rooms of my heart.
one time i spent about six months reading and researching a particular author, just so i could talk to one of my friends about him. i never got the chance. she betrayed me, broke my trust, and sided with her abusive ex-boyfriend. standing in the sodden floodplain of what she left over, some bitter part of me asked - isn't that tragic? you have all this knowledge and nothing to do with it.
but i did have all that knowledge, though. when i reach for it, i still feel it glow.
but i don’t
still don’t!
It’s All a Learning Process
The Death of Sappho (1873) by Gustave Moreau